INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE ON LAKE ERIE
TWO OF THE ENEMY’S VESSELS THAT TRIED TO GET AWAY--A YANKEE
SAILOR’S REASON FOR WANTING ONE MORE SHOT--WHEN PERRY RETURNED
TO THE _LAWRENCE_--THE DEAD AND WOUNDED--EFFECT OF THE VICTORY
ON THE PEOPLE--HONORS TO THE VICTORS--THE CASE OF LIEUTENANT
ELLIOTT--ULTIMATE FATE OF SOME OF THE SHIPS.
Although victory was declared when, at 3 o’clock in the afternoon of
September 10, 1813, Captain Barclay of the British squadron ordered
a white flag displayed, the contest was not wholly ended, nor is the
story of it yet complete. The British schooner _Chippewa_ and the sloop
_Little Belt_ had been shunted off to the westward by the exigencies
of battle, and their commanders, taking advantage of the veiling cloud
of smoke, made sail in the hope of escaping back to the Detroit River.
Stephen Champlin, who commanded the _Scorpion_, and Thomas Holdup, in
command of the _Trippe_, went in chase and captured them, although it
was 10 o’clock at night before Champlin got back with the _Little
Belt_ in tow. And thus it happened that Champlin fired the last shot of
the battle.
[Illustration: Stephen Champlin.
_From a painting at the Naval Academy, Annapolis._]
One incident, occurring on the _Somers_, remains to be told. It was on
this vessel that Elliott came into the battle the second time, and he
says:
“I was directing the forward gun--the schooner having but two--and
after the enemy had struck ordered to cease firing, but the man at the
after gun having lost his fire by the intervening rigging, was in the
act of firing again. I struck him with the flat of my sword, saying:
“‘You scoundrel, do you mean to fire at him after he has struck?’
“‘Just this once more, Captain Elliott,’ said he.
“‘What do you want to fire for?’
“‘I want a little satisfaction just for myself. I was pressed nine
times in their service.’”
Meantime Perry prepared to receive the officers who were to come, and
in the usual form to offer their swords to him. Standing on the deck of
the _Niagara_ as the news of the surrender travelled from one American
ship to another, and listening to the cheers with which the words were
greeted, Perry heard, last of all, a faint response from the few men
still remaining on the battered _Lawrence_, from which the fleet had
been slowly drifting. Their cry came to him as an appeal to return to
her, and return he did, after informing the defeated officers that they
would be received there. Bringing the fleet to anchor, Perry entered
a boat and was carried to her side, and those of her crew who were
able to do so gathered at the gangway to receive him--gathered with
uncovered heads and in silence.
“It was a time of conflicting emotions when he stepped upon deck,”
wrote Surgeon Parsons. “The battle was won, and he was safe, but the
deck was slippery with blood, and strewn with the bodies of twenty
officers and men, seven of whom had sat at a table with us at our last
meal, and the ship resounded everywhere with the groans of the wounded.
Those of us who were spared and able to walk met him at the gangway
to welcome him on board, but the salutation was a silent one on both
sides; not a word could find utterance.
“And then came the officers of the British squadron, one from each
vessel. They were obliged to walk around dismounted guns and pick their
way over the dead to reach the victorious commander. But they had come
from scenes no less trying on their own decks, for he who came from the
_Detroit_ had seen a pet bear lapping the blood of those who had but a
brief time before been fondling it. One after another they presented
their swords, while Perry in a low and kindly voice declined to receive
them, and asked about the dead and wounded they had left behind. He
was particularly solicitous in his questions about Captain Barclay,
for Barclay had in Europe suffered the loss of an arm, and had been
otherwise mutilated in fighting the French, and now had been badly
wounded again--so badly that he lost the other arm.”
Until 9 o’clock at night the Americans were busy securing the
prisoners, burying the dead, and making repairs on the rigging of the
ships, but at that hour the sails were once more spread to the breeze,
and victor and vanquished sailed away to anchor in beautiful Put-in Bay
Harbor.
Here on the 12th the officers who had fallen were buried on South Bass
Island, three Americans and three Englishmen, side by side and with
equal honors, as they had shown equal manly qualities.
The number of dead among the Americans was twenty-seven (of whom
twenty-two were killed on the _Lawrence_), the wounded, ninety-six. The
British reported a loss of forty-one killed and ninety-four wounded.
The _Lawrence_, as told, was wellnigh a wreck above the water-line; the
_Detroit_ and the _Queen Charlotte_ were so much cut up in masts and
rigging that, in a blow two days later, the masts went over the rails
in spite of preventers, although both were at anchor in Put-in Bay.
On boarding the _Detroit_ the Americans found two Indians hiding in the
hold. They had been stationed aloft as sharpshooters, but when the
American great guns were brought to bear they had slid down the rigging
in terror. On being brought to the deck they expressed astonishment
because they were not tortured.
The unhurt prisoners were all placed on the _Porcupine_, and there fed
and served with an allowance of grog as soon as possible. The wounded
were put on the _Lawrence_ and sent to Erie under the care of Yarnall,
save that the officers were kept with Perry.
Perry’s despatch to General Harrison, it is worth telling, was written
with a pencil on the back of an old letter. Perry used his cap in lieu
of a table. When written, the despatch was entrusted to Midshipman
Dulany Forest. Forest had been wounded in a curious fashion. A
grape-shot struck the side of a port, glanced and struck a mast, and
glancing again, struck down Forest as he stood beside Perry. Perry
stooped and raised him up. He was unconscious for a moment, but quickly
recovered, and getting on his feet, pulled the projectile from the
inside of his clothing, through which it had penetrated, and put it in
his pocket, saying:
“I guess this is mine.”
Perry’s letter to the Secretary of the Navy is worth quoting, for it
was written when “a religious awe seemed to come over him at his
wonderful preservation in the midst of great and long-continued danger.”
It read:
“It has pleased the Almighty to give to the arms of the United States a
signal victory over their enemies on this lake. The British squadron,
consisting of two ships, two brigs, a schooner and a sloop, have
this moment surrendered to the force under my command, after a sharp
conflict.”
It was characteristic of the man to say “surrendered to the force under
my command,” rather than to say “surrendered to me.” And it is recorded
that when he had given the needed orders for the care of the prisoners
and the fleet, the reaction that followed the prolonged excitement
was so great that, utterly weary, he stretched himself among his dead
comrades on the deck of his ship, and with his sword still in hand,
went fast to sleep.
The news of the victory spread over the nation with marvellous
rapidity. The roar of the guns, conveyed by the water, was heard even
at Erie. People at Cleveland gathered on the water-front, and when the
last guns were fired cheered the name of Perry, because those last
reports were from the heaviest guns, and they knew that the heaviest
guns were on the American ships.
But while these men cheered, there were others who, living in the wild
region about the head of the lake, and seeing for themselves where
victory lay, instead of cheering, gathered their wives and little ones
around them and out of full hearts gave thanks to Almighty God for
his goodness. And they had good reason for so doing, for the capture
of the enemy’s fleet meant more to them than the taking of ships. It
meant that the inhuman Proctor, who, at the head of 5,000 mixed troops
and Indians, was awaiting the news at Malden, would be barred from
his intended incursion into Ohio--Proctor, who had looked on unmoved
while the Indians, under Tecumseh, slaughtered the prisoners after
the fall of Fort Miami. All the day of the battle on Lake Erie “women
with terrified children, and decrepit old men, sat listening with the
deepest anxiety, for they knew not but with the setting sun they would
be compelled to flee to the interior to escape the fangs of the red
blood-hounds who were ready to be let loose upon helpless innocency by
the approved servants of a government that boasted of its civilization
and Christianity.”
Perry had saved these from the terrors of the scalping-knife and the
stake. His victory “led to the destruction of the Indian Confederacy
and wiped out the stigma of the surrender at Detroit, thirteen months
before. When Proctor heard the news he fled for his life, and was
roundly denounced to his face for his cowardice by the brave and
disgusted Tecumseh.”
Little less heartfelt were the rejoicings of the whole nation over this
battle. “Illuminations, bonfires, salvos of artillery, public dinners,
orations, and songs were the visible indications of the popular
satisfaction, and it will not be forgotten that the most conspicuous
feature of every illumination was a transparency that read: “We have
met the enemy and they are ours.”
[Illustration: The Medal Awarded to Oliver H. Perry after his Victory
on Lake Erie.]
The Congress thanked Perry, and his men through him; voted gold medals
to him and Elliott, silver medals to all other commissioned officers,
swords to midshipmen and sailing-masters, and three months’ pay all
around. Perry was promoted from the rank of master commandant to that
of captain, his new commission bearing the date of the battle. State
legislatures and city councils expressed their patriotic rejoicings in
the usual fashion, Pennsylvania leading the way. There are portraits
and statues a-plenty of the hero, and while the art of printing
preserves the story of his deeds, his fame will remain untarnished
among his patriotic countrymen.
[Illustration: Medal Awarded to Jesse D. Elliott.]
The reader who understands somewhat of the handling of sailing-ships
will observe that the _Niagara_ did not take the prominent part in the
battle which her size and power warranted until after she was boarded
by Perry. Because of this Elliott has been accused of acting the part
of the jealous Frenchman who might have helped instead of hurting John
Paul Jones in the _Bonhomme Richard_-_Serapis_ fight. The officers
under Perry were furious against him. In the prolonged controversy that
followed, Elliott’s friends, to defend him, declared that the order
to keep the _Niagara_ half a cable length astern of the _Caledonia_
was imperative and was not rescinded; and that Perry had, in his
enthusiastic handling of his own ship, forgotten to handle the whole
squadron. Elliott, they said, was anxiously awaiting orders from Perry
during all the battle, and meantime worked his long guns until all the
projectiles were exhausted.
Elliott himself says in a pamphlet that he issued in 1844:
“Great stress has been laid on my not leaving my station in the line
at the battle of Lake Erie at an earlier moment; and in doing so why I
did not pass between the _Lawrence_ and the enemy. I’ll tell you. Where
two fleets are about to engage in battle, a knowledge of naval tactics
and evolutions must be resorted to. The line once formed, no captain
has a right to change without authority or a signal from the commanding
vessel.”
However, that Elliott erred in not obeying the order that he himself
helped to pass, cannot now be questioned by a sailorman, for the rule
of the sea is to obey the last order. But it is hard to believe on the
face of the facts that Elliott acted the part of a Landais, and when
it is recalled that Perry gave him hearty praise even after the other
officers began to murmur aloud, it is reasonably certain that he had at
the very worst earned a silver medal, and no one should grudge him the
gold one he received.
The English comments on this battle declared that it was a Canadian--a
local defeat, and not a defeat of the “Royal Navy.” They sneered at the
courage, as well as the capacity, of the Colonists. Allen’s history
in the latest edition declares that Perry had six hundred picked men.
The slur on the Canadians is no affair of ours, of course, but one who
knows the manly qualities of our neighbors at the North, cannot let it
pass.
It may be of interest to note that the captured ships were valued at
$225,000. Of this, Perry and Elliott got $7,140 each, while $5,000 was
voted by Congress to Perry in addition. The captains of gun-boats and
other officers got $2,295 each; midshipmen, $811 each; petty officers,
$447, and the men before the mast, $209 each.
At the end of the open-water season the ships of the squadron
rendezvoused at Erie, and eventually, after the war, the _Lawrence_,
the _Detroit_, and the _Queen Charlotte_ were sunk in Little Bay in the
east end of Presqu’ Isle at Erie, as worthless. The _Niagara_ followed
to the same Davy-Jones locker. Then the _Queen Charlotte_ and _Detroit_
were bought and raised, and used for a time as merchantmen. The end of
the _Detroit_ came at last when some hotel-keepers at Niagara Falls
bought her, put a live bear and some other animals on her, to make a
show for gaping fools, and sent her over the falls.
The guns from the fleet when last fired served a historical purpose.
When the Erie Canal was opened they were stretched along its route at
such intervals that the report of one, if fired, could be heard at the
next. And so, when the first boat was ready to make its triumphant
passage of the great waterway, these guns were fired one after another
to telegraph the news ahead, and so it happened that in just two hours
from the time when she left Buffalo it was known in New York that she
had started.
Said Washington Irving in writing of Perry’s victory soon after the
event:
“In future times, when the shores of Erie shall hum with busy
population; when towns and cities shall brighten where now extend the
dark and tangled forests; when ports shall spread their arms, and lofty
barks shall ride where now the canoe is fastened to the stake; when the
present age shall have grown into venerable antiquity, and the mists
of fable begin to gather around its history, then will the inhabitants
look back to this battle as one of the romantic achievements of the
days of yore. It will stand first on the page of their local legends,
and in the marvellous tales of the borders.”